


Fisherman's Dream

by sterling_schreibt



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Ocean, creature - Freeform, fairy tale, mermaid
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-24 05:41:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19166950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sterling_schreibt/pseuds/sterling_schreibt
Summary: A lonely fisherman makes an incredible discovery that will change his life forever.





	Fisherman's Dream

He had married too young to know true love and his wife had died in childbirth not a year after. Thus, Rick had been forced into widowerhood and moved on to live as a young man, on a small yet sturdy boat, fishing for his keep, and living in a small one-room house with a tiny stove, a warm bed, a sink to wash himself, and a reliable little furnace. Two sources of heat after the cold sloshing of the ocean tossing him around were what it took to warm his frozen bones.  
It was spring now, a decade of celibacy and hard work had worn him. His youthful face was adorned by lines, the sun tanning his pale skin, his fierce red hair a mane growing into a beard that thickened around his jawline. He was muscular, near twice the weight he was when he had first gone out to sea on his own.

At the end of a bountiful day he would return with full nets, but for some reason the ocean beckoned him back as the sky had already turned pink. The sun an orange orb was kissing the horizon as he set out once more, numb to the weariness of his arms. It seemed like the waves were carrying him on their own accord, swift and with a purpose he didn't dare question. 

The water shone light purple and red as his boat came to a stop, softly bobbing up and down. Rick blinked, turning his head to see how far he'd drifted from home, but could not make out the church tower or any sliver of land anywhere. He seemed to have been swallowed up; the evening mist was slowly creeping above the silent sea.

Against the fading light, he saw the silhouette of a rock and what he assumed to be a sleeping seal. He had his good knife and a bit of rope with him - a seal pelt and the fat and meat would bring in a nice bonus, maybe even afford him a day off work. As he floated closer, however, he saw that this was no animal at all; neither was the being on the flat rock human.

From the waist up, she appeared to be human, a young woman Rick would think to be half his age, pinkish cheeks and slender arms, a mop of curly brown hair covering her bare chest and shoulders. Below her navel, she seamlessly transitioned into the lower body of a seal, soft and grey with darker and lighter spots all over. Her fin twitched slightly as Rick's boat nudged the plateau she dozed on, and he reached out to touch her hip.

At this, the creature jumped up with a squeak and slid into the sea, her head emerging from behind the rock, wet fingertips soon joining it.

"I meant no harm," Rick spoke in his hoarse, dark voice. Both hands he held up, showing that he wasn't carrying any weapons or tools to hurt her. She blinked at him, not understanding his words nor his gestures, but she folded her arms and placed her chin on them, head slightly tilted. A soft inquisitative noise escaped her as Rick sat back, staring in disbelief.

"Can you not speak?" he wondered, his own features a mask of sheer surprise. His tone had an unintended effect as the creature chirped loudly, sliding back on the platform with a mischievous glance. 

Apparently, apart from the soft mewling and chitters she thrust at him, this being was not capable of communicating. She also didn't seem to comprehend his words, reacting to tone and volume only. As he spoke gentle, his hands calmly placed on his knees, she was a rapt audience, chirping and tossing her hair back in exulting excitement. Rick noticed how it gradually started to glow, moving from a chestnut brown downwards to a soft rosy white. She seemed smitten, clapping her hands when his eyes strayed off hers, and playfully smacking her fin against the flat rock.

Then she was purring, lying down on the surface with her back arched, and Rick's look wandered up and down her frame. Her pupils expanded, near blackening her eyes, and she ran a pair of shivering hands over her breasts and belly, placing them carefully by her sides. Rick still watched as below the curve of her hips a pink slit opened, prior to her touch invisible. His face grew hot and red in shame; he certainly hadn't counted on such a progression.  
But where human boundaries restricted him from marrying twice, here feral instincts made him rough and wanting, no longer pining for what he could have, but taking what he had been offered.

The creature watched as he crawled on top of the rock, tossing his boots and pants into the boat, and knelt above her body, hard and ready to mate. All notion of oddness were cast aside, and the feeling of entering her as familiar and snug as any he had had before his abandonment. Rick thrust with a harsh grunt, thrust again until he looked and found himself buried to the hilt in this sighing and moaning being.

She looked down too, pleased with the result, and held onto his hair as he pounded away, squealing with delight as he emptied his warm seed into the awaiting pouch. Her muscle seemed to sucker him in, press and milk him in waves until his softness no longer bore any likeness to its former self. Rick sat back on his knees, half-naked and dazed, and watched her body close up once more.

He was scared, his sudden clarity boring hooks into his flesh. She was purring continuously, lazily flopping on her belly as she watched him curiously. She made a tentative sound at which he scrambled back into his boat, only for her to sink into the water after him. She wrapped her hands around his vessel's rim, smiling widely with her head cocked. Rick reached out, petting her hair while mumbling sweet nonsense, and she squeaked and disappeared underneath the surface.

He sat for a few more moments, but when she didn't come back, he rowed home as fast as his arms took him.

That night, Rick was plagued by monstrous visions of a dark hell, suffocating blackness that had him wake up in cold sweat, gasping for air. The night outside was calm, the sea a gentle rhythmic pushing and pulling against the smooth black cobblestone. After twisting and turning for hours, Rick decided to get up and make breakfast. The first few rosy strands wove through the deep blue, accompanying him preparing the fire. As he sat down, watching the ember glow, his lids grew heavier and heavier until he dozed off once more, curled up in front of the heat.

This time he was swimming with her, the snapping jaws now tender hands, holding and guiding him. He floated effortlessly, navigated like he would above water, his legs strong and his arms steering him. She was beside him, an unearthly beauty, a siren and lover, all around him, beckoning and coaxing him towards her.

Rick sat up, startled, his heart racing and his ebbing pleasure only evident in his stained pyjamas. Ashamed in his solitude, the fisherman stood and cleaned himself up, gathering more wood from behind the stove to reignite the fire. As he stirred his oatmeal, Rick stared out at the water, his head feeling heavy and his feet restless. 

He packed his belongings and tools and soon enough was back in his boat, sturdy and familiar as ever. Never once in his life had Rick considered the sea an enemy, a threat - he had seen storms, of course, seen shipwrecks, and he wasn't simple or a romantic. He merely considered it an unwritten contract of respect and worship in turn for food and livelihood that he and the other seamen had with the ocean.

It was a clear day, the air crisp and the sky a bright blue. His nets filled quickly, as did his fellow men's, and they were rowing back in a small congregation, silently praying that their lucky streak would not be followed by invincible hardship. Rick looked at his day's catch, which, shortly after noon, was already a sustaining success. More afraid than of fate's retaliation was his fear of being home so soon with no occupation. His house was humble, clean, and he lacked nothing. To sit inside, to brood, for the entirety of the day and the upcoming night was too much for him to bear.

So Rick sold his catch and went out to sea once more, this time armed with a second ration, a woolen blanket and a thicker coat, and a treat.

Why he had brought it, he didn't know; what were the chances of ever seeing the creature again? If it had not been an elaborate prank by the gods above in the first place, to test his mind and virility.  
It came almost as a relief to feel the same draft towards the open sea he had felt previously, a drag out towards unchartered waters where the flat rock emerged out from nowhere, a stone column leading miles upon miles down into the blind depths. As he drifted towards it, keeping his eyes peeled for the soft shape of the mermaid, he watched as mist clouded around him in a vast semi-circle. His heartbeat quickened, and yet, no sign of her.

He swivelled around in his boat, the soft waves slapping against the sealed wood the only sounds next to his labored breath.

A soft chirp had him grab his oars too hard, his boat almost capsized, his knuckles white as he stared into the water, watching sporadic bubbles emerge and pop on the blue-greenish surface.

Her head appeared, but she stayed submerged until her chin, and her eyes narrowed as she looked him over. A small gust of wind had to have carried his scent over to her because her pupils dilated and she crooned, swimming closer until she'd grabbed the boat. Again, she slid on the rock, rolling from side to side.

This time, Rick lied to himself, he had come prepared. He rummaged in his satchel, feeling her eyes follow his every movement, and unearthed two small custard cakes, baked golden brown pastries with a thick yellow filling. The mermaid chirped, raised on her elbows, and watched him take a demonstrative bite out of one of the cakes, which looked like little sand dollars in his big hands, but would fill both of hers with ease. She perked up, inched closer, and her hair shivered as her ears twitched forward at the unfamiliar sound of crumbling crust.

He slowly held a cake out to her, encouraging her softly to take it while he was finishing his own, but instead she lunged forward and took a hearty bite out of it without reaching for it as he'd expected. His heart skipped a beat when her hands wrapped around his wrist, and he realized for the first time the strength this slender creature had. She hadn't had reason to use it, but he felt a primal instinct shudder through her entire body.

Her, not accustomed to sugar and custard, squealed in delight, shaking as she ate the pie from his hand, finally using her fingers to pick up bits and crumbs she'd left on his palm. He laughed; she was an adorable sight. 

When she was done, her eyes wandered to the source of the cakes, and Rick reached for another two. He wasn't overly hungry, but he hadn't shared a meal with anyone in years, and yearned for its calm (or as calm as possible with her having a bit of a sugar shock) intimacy.

"This isn't something I eat a lot," he explained while she chewed on her second pie, her eyes wandering up to meet his, uncomprehendingly.

"No - I'm rather used to hearty meals. Fish, grain, the like. Broth. I wonder how you fish...or hunt."

He pictured her tying nets between reefs and rocks to catch a swarm she'd chased. The mermaid purred, licking her fingers before curling up on the rock, lazily clapping her fin against the rock. Rick had prepared for this, however, and tied his boat around the rock with a thin rope, her half-watching him as he worked.

She stretched and yawned, hands softly drumming on the stone surface, and while her eyes kept darting over to his belongings and where more food was stored, she seemed to settle for observing Rick's doing.

What had started as a smart idea in his mind in reality turned out to be a bit less pleasant. The sea wasn't rough, but the winds cold, and he didn't have layers of fat or snug scales to keep the cooling temperature out, his protection was his coat, a beanie, and a blanket not meant for resisting the ocean's whims.

The mermaid eyed him curiously, wondering perhaps as to why he chose to stay. The scent of food wafter over to her. She saw his reddened face, wrapped up in cloth, and suddenly, with one elegant hop, wedged her smooth body into the boat with him. The wooden surface was unlike any she'd ever felt, being used to moss, rocks, sand, and the touch of her kind. Quickly, the mermaid found the stashed pies and wolfed them down, ending up with the satchel over her head for a few confusing moments.

Rick, having made himself as small as humanly possible, didn't feel how she then curled up against his side, mimicking his motion in a much more natural way as she seemed to nearly disappear under the soft seal-half of her body.  
Moments later, she too was sleeping soundly.


End file.
